


Shadows You Left Behind

by XOXOg



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Forbidden Love, Frerard, Love, M/M, MCR, My Chem, Mystery, Run Away, Shadows - Freeform, frank iero - Freeform, gerard way - Freeform, vampire
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-17
Updated: 2014-01-17
Packaged: 2018-01-09 02:38:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 8,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1140441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/XOXOg/pseuds/XOXOg
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Frank's a loser, who happens to be from a homophobic household. Frank doesn't agree, yet it doesn't concern him because he is straight. His parents instantly take against Gerard because of his sexuality, which isn't the only secret he's hiding. Except, the other? Well that's a little bit more dangerous.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Painfully ignored, yet hideously visible.

Pulling my chair back, making a scraping sound against the floor, I sat down, slumping my scruffy 'Misfits' shoulder bag onto the desk. I glanced around nervously, I was a little late, but the teacher didn't seem to notice. I fiddled with the zip on my bag before tugging it open, pulling my book, pencil case and planner out and throwing the bag down beside me. The girl next to me shuffled uncomfortably in her seat, flicking her hair back behind her neck, as if she didn't want to be seen with me. How nice of her. I sighed, sinking down into my chair a little more. Why did I always have to be the outcast? I'd never done anything to put people off me, because I'd never had the chance. Ever since the first day, people simply ignored me, a few would stop to talk, then after realising we had nothing in common, would leave and join the rest of the babble, who were ditsy blonde girls who idolised assholes. Or muscly jocks who think Shakespeare is a shitty English boy-band, and Slipknot is a way to tie a rope. Eugh.

"Okay, Frank, Could you read this paragraph aloud for the class, please." I sat up slowly. "Ermm..yeah" everyone stared at me, they probably hadn't even heard me talk before, because they're too stuck up their own arses to notice anyone else but themselves and their skanky-ass girlfriends.  
"Um...Of....Of Mice and Men was a drama about the dreams of a pair of migrant agricultural labourers in California. It was critically acclaimed and Steinbeck's 1962 Nobel Prize citation called it a "little masterpiece."" I stopped at the end of the paragraph, to be honest, all I could think of was the band "Of Mice And Men" so had one of their songs stuck in my head now. Looking around sheepishly i noticed people were looking at me, sniggering a little at my eyeliner. I rolled my eyes and slumped back down again. "Jessica, can you read the next sentence?" Mrs Parker stated, relieving the burning of eyes on my back. After a painful English lesson, the bell rang. "Thank fuck for that.." I muttered under my breath, gathering my stuff together and stuffing it into my bag, before slipping out of the classroom, managing to avoid snide remarks and shoves from the utter retards I called my classmates.

 

"Can you sign my slip, please?" I asked the receptionist, "Another physiso appointment, Frank? I hope your wrist gets better soon." She said, looking at my bandaged arm with sympathy.  
The pen swirled around the sheet of paper and she slid it across the desk to me, I thanked her and walked out into the street. So I may have possibly pretended to break my wrist so I could get out of Biology class. But seriously, the idiots in that class were responsible for half my pain and injury, and I really couldn't be bothered with more bruises, so I liked to go off to my favourite place; the woods.

I loved the woods because it was quiet, and it was deserted. As I hid inside the bushes, nuzzling up against a tree trunk, notepad in hand. I heard a voice, it was very close, I could almost feel his breath on me, but I couldn't see the voice's owner anywhere. I began to panic a little, someone was scarily close to me. Who was he? Why were they here? Was he about to beat me up? But his voice sounded gentle, as he got closer I realised he was singing quietly to himself, a sweet melody I recognised.  
I heard a scratching noise coming from right behind me; a rather disconcerting sound in a misty abandoned woods. I realised it was the tree against some metal, but why would he have metal? I looked up to see the singing guy, climbing up the tree, his belt scratching against the bark. Making the weird noise I had heard. I couldn't see his face, only his legs dangling from the branches. He was wearing tight black skinny jeans, with a chain hanging from the pockets, a studded belt and a scraggy pair of beaten up sneakers. I smiled at the familiarity of his clothing, and at the song he was singing. He was obviously just as much of an outcast as me. I wondered if he could see me. I got up, as quietly as I could, scrabbling at the ground until I found my bag, slinging it over my shoulder, before fleeing the scene. I did not feel the need to socialise. I wanted to be alone.


	2. Self loathing, self pity and pure confusion

I walked steadily, I didn't feel like a friend. Besides, he'd probably think I was an idiot, most people do.  
I stopped. I was right in front of the local shop, it was risky, going in on a school day.  
I put my hood up and hid in it, mooching into the store, trying not to draw attention to myself. This proved rather difficult as the hoodie gave me the look of a gangster or at least some kind of hooligan. The man in the shop watched me like a hawk.  
I bought a chocolate bar and a can of 'Monster' energy drink, before heading out again. It was raining, quite heavily actually, specks flying into my face, bitter wind nipping into my skin. I carried on through it, only stopping when I got to my house.  
I turned the key in the lock, it didn't work the first time, so after a few stubborn tries I opened the door and slammed it quickly after my entrance. The house was still chilly, a shiver ran down my spine, I hated the cold.

I ate my snacks and drank my drink, before settling into the sofa, sinking into the soft fabric, I fell asleep.

"Hey Frank. You're home early from school today!"  
My mom stated, I looked up at her, my eyes groggy with sleep, I blinked repeatedly, as if trying to clean the gunk out of my eyes. "Yeah, I had English last, she always seems to let us out early."  
She nodded, smiled, and walked into the kitchen to make dinner; spaghetti meatballs tonight. Yuck.  
Just then, the door opened, disrupting my thoughts, it was my dad.  
"Hey Frankie!" He smiled, ruffling the top of my head.  
"Oh hi. How was your day?" I asked him politely, I was such a boring person at home, such a goodie two shoes, although only because if I was bad I'd get my wifi taken away, and that was a basic human need. "Great, thanks, we have this new guy at work though, don't like him much, tell you more at dinner. I'm gonna have a shower now." And then with a throaty laugh, he disappeared upstairs.  
I lazed around, flicked on the TV, checked my phone and generally pissed away the time until dinner. My mom called out for me to come to the table and I wandered into the room. Her and dad were laying out the cutlery. They looked like the perfect family, and to be honest, they were. I didn't really have any curfews, so long as I were there for dinner. They let me like whatever music I wanted to, and play it in my room, so long as they couldn't hear it from downstairs.  
"Hi Frank, how was your day?" My mum asked, (God, I was sick of hearing this question.)  
I took my plate from the kitchen counter and placed it on the table, before sitting down quietly. "Good, I guess, if a little boring." They nodded and embarked on general chit-chat. I zoned out, I wasn't really bothered on their discussions on the up-rising price of milk and gas. But then as I zoned back in again, I heard something remotely interesting.  
"New family in town.. Father is at my work... two boys around Frank's age."  
"Yeah, the blonde kids alright. But hear this, the older one is a fag." he spat out, disgusted. "Oh god." my mother replied. "We don't need people like him in his neighbourhood." My head snapped up, what was wrong with gay people? I didn't think they were homophobic. I gulped at the intense route this conversation was taking.  
"I know, and I think we better keep him away from our Frank. He likes the same music and stuff, bad influence." I watched in horror, this kid was probably really nice, with a great taste in music and hated by most. Sounded familiar. "What's wrong with him?"  
I asked, my parents heads spun round to face me.  
"Being gay is wrong, were not having this conversation, he is a bad person."  
"But mom-" I jutted in.  
"No buts Frank, eat your dinner." I sunk down in defeat, although it did kinda make me laugh how she said "No butts" whilst taking about gay men. Though of course I showed no signs of amusement through my body language.  
An image of the boy in the tree came to mind. I'd never seen him before, what if it was him? I shook it away, I don't even know him. I stirred my pasta with my fork, it felt like my stomach, churning round. I didn't understand. Why does society have to be so fucked up?

 

I saw the boy from the park again, swiftly he darted through the trees, fast paced. His legs moving so fast, like a spinning fan. He grinned and darted away; careful not to make much noise. The alarm clock rang, a shrill tone that reminded me of a demented bird, which liked to terrify me every morning. I sat up.  
I placed my feet down on the ground, I always did this, it was like a sign that I was down to earth again, and had to finally finish dreaming. I was sick of these thoughts, I don't even know this person, and I don't particularly want to be friends with him.  
I don't have friends.  
The alarm sounded again, as if it knew I still wasn't up. I rose, sighing. Before walking across the landing and into the bathroom.  
I turned on the shower, three twists right and two twists left, just like every morning.  
I waved my arm into the steamy water, it was a good temperature. I plodded over to the mirror, fiddling with my hair, it had a black overhanging fringe. (If you could even call It that.) It just sort of flopped, neither way, just in my face. The sides were shaved and blonde. I guess when I'd done it, I'd wanted to rebel. Rebel from my family and from my school. I got some weird looks, and I heard the younger years talking about me. I really didn't give a fuck. My parents weren't exactly thrilled by this drastic change to my appearance, but they said I was old enough to make my own choices now. But I had found out sexuality didn't count in that statement. I'm into girls anyway, so it doesn't matter, but I didn't like the fact I had no freedom in the say. And I felt extremely lucky to be straight in that moment of brisk conversation last night.

 

I checked the door was firmly locked before stripping off, my mum had accidentally walked in on me at the tender age of fourteen. I now make sure there's no chance of that embarrassment ever happening again. There was a big mirror around the bathroom, meaning I could see myself from all angles. I absolutely loathed that mirror. I hated seeing myself naked, I hated my chubby belly, my short limbs, I hated the fact I had seemed to grow up into a man without my permission, I hated having a constant reminder of the way I viewed myself; horrendous. I just hated mirrors.  
Luckily, once the shower had gotten into full swing, the room fogged up, meaning I was left with just the thoughts in my head and the tune of the radio.  
That was my favourite part of the day, listening to Kerrang! radio in the hot rain. Ever since I moved to England, I had fully appreciated the usage of Kerrang! Especially the magazines. My room was filled with posters stacking up the walls and cupboards stuffed with old cut-up issues.

I shut off the water, wrapped a towel around myself and exited the bathroom, wandering across the landing, throwing my uniform on and running downstairs, before shoving a piece of cold toast (my mom had made for me hours before) into my mouth and running out the door just in time for the morning bus.


	3. A new beginning for multiple people, but for better or worse?

Sitting on the bus, watching the miserable rain dripping from the windows and drifting down the glass, before tricking off the sides of the vehicle, I sighed. I was sick of seeing the same views, same people, same weather for everyday of my life here.  
Just then, I felt a pair of eyes on me. I sheepishly turned round, to see a boy around my age, trying to get my attention awkwardly. "Can I sit here, please?" He asked, a thick Jersey accent like mine escaping his mouth. "Sure." I said, and he smiled at the familiar voice.  
He had piercingly green eyes, even though they had a lot of brown in them, they still stood out from his pale face and dark, floppy hair. He said his name was Gerard.  
"I like your bag." He said a few minutes later.  
"Thanks, you like Misfits?!" I asked excitedly, life just got considerably better. "Yeah, I love them. Please tell me you like Maiden?" He laughed, making me grin.  
"Of course." I replied enthusiastically. "You like The Smiths?" Gerard nodded eagerly.  
"Green Day?" I smiled. "Yes."  
"Radiohead?"

"Fuck, yeah."  
The rest of the journey went pretty much the same way, until some jock behind us told us to shut up. We kindly told him to fuck off. He didn't seem to like that.  
"Oi, shut up, fags." I gulped and tried to think of a comeback. Luckily Gerard managed to think of one before I messed it up any further.  
"Oh, look, this boy is so clever, he's learned to differentiate sexuality! Gold stars for you!" I laughed, but also worried slightly, just in case people did think I was gay, I could deal without that. "So you are fags?" The jock asked, I learned his name was Josh.  
"I don't know about Frank, but I am. Why, do you have a crush on me?" Gerard asked, faking a rather convincing innocent face. Josh looked completely horrified. "I'm gonna get you, fags!" He shouted, but the bus had already stopped and me and Gerard had quickly made our way off.

 

We strolled into the hallways, we weren't gonna stay in the cold any longer if we could help it. "So, you're new?" I asked Gerard, who nodded quietly. "What's wrong?" I asked him, sensing his hesitation not to talk. "Nothing." He said meekly. "Spit it out, I don't mind." I told him, leading him out of the middle of the rush of students.  
"You don't mind, do you? Me being gay.." I shook my head. "Of course not, just don't tell my parents. They're kinda assholes." Gerard smiled sympathetically. "S'okay."  
I opened my locker, twisting my locker combination this way and that, almost forgetting the stupid code. "Have you got a locker yet?" I asked Gerard, who was peering around the room, taking everything in. I noticed he had a little smudge of black over his delicate eyelids. He was wearing makeup. My chest pounded and I felt a little dizzy. Must have been the energy drink I had this morning, not a good choice for eight am. I turned back to my locker, grabbing my books and slamming the door. "Yeah, number 107 I think?" I smiled. "Mine is 106, yours is right here!" He grinned back, so easily pleased. "Ermm, Gerard..." He looked up at me, awaiting my response. "You might not wanna tell anyone else about..your sexuality. It's just, people bully me, saying I'm a fag, and I don't think it's a good idea to get you more enemies..." I looked down, blushing. "But you're not-" he began, drifting off a little. I shook my head, staring at the floor. "No." I said meekly, avoiding his eyes.  
Gerard looked a little deflated after our conversation, I guess he wasn't looking forward to meeting the rest of our school. "Is your first class art, too?" He asked, timidly. "Yeah!" I chirped, trying to brighten the mood.

 

Miss Carlie placed a paper down on my desk, it fluttered slightly and began to fall off onto the floor, Gerard grabbed it before it hit the ground, I hadn't even noticed him there. "Thanks" I said, smiling at him. He walked past, smiled at me, then sat down on the other side of the room. I wish I could be sat by him. I sighed, slumping down again, looking at who was sat next to me, she was a plain girl, but she had a warm, pretty face. she also had long, brown hair and freckles. She was wearing a navy hoodie, hiding her hands inside the sleeves and resting them on her face in a last ditch attempt to warm herself up a little. The classroom was cold, but it wasn't that bad, she must have been one of those people who really feels the cold, or she just liked hiding in her hoodie. Either way, it didn't really concern me.  
"Hi." She said quietly, I jumped internally, facing her properly. "Hi." I said back, smiling that someone had actually bothered to pay attention to my existence. Come to think of it, I seemed to remember her face, she often sat at the back of the classes I was in, watching me sometimes, maybe she noticed I was often so lonely. I smiled and looked back to Miss Carlie. This day was getting better.  
"Today, since you're all in new classes this year, I want you to get to know eachother better. We will work in pairs today!" The whole class mutually groaned. I wasn't particularly sociable at the best of times, especially not early in the morning, looking like shit. I felt sorry for Gerard, he was sat next to some 'scene kid' type girl who was flirting intensely with him. He was gonna have a fun lesson.  
"I want you to interpret your secrets onto the page, in the most subtle way. Use your imagination, do not make it obvious, you don't want people to know, remember." Miss Carlie continued, before being interrupted by someone at the back of the class. "What if you don't have any secrets?"  
Miss smiled mysteriously. "Everyone does, they need to dig deeper, when I say the word secret, something must spring to mind, something that makes your chest pang. Think harder."  
He nodded and looked as if something had come to his mind.  
I have something I was thinking of, but I don't even know myself if it's true, so I'd rather not use it.  
"We're not starting today, since this is only a single lesson and we need a double lesson to fit everything in, so for now, I'm going to hand out some paper and you draw what you're thinking of right now. I will not show anyone, just draw."  
Gerard bit his pen and held it to the page. He then began to draw something.


	4. Art, the expression of the unknown.

Miss Carlie kept me behind after class. I didn't know why.  
"Frank!" She called before I left the room, I paused on the spot looking up at her. "Yes, miss." I said quietly, fiddling with my gloves in anxiety. "I'd like to talk to you please, I'll write you a note explaining why you're late for your next class." I gulped, that meant she'd keep me there a long time.  
"Don't worry, you're not in trouble." I breathed a sigh of relief, and she laughed, her rather round chin shaking a little.  
"So, your drawing this lesson." She dragged it out, making me shiver inside with doubt and worry.  
"I like it." I looked at her incredulously. "You do?!" She nodded. "Yes, you must have felt strongly about the subject this time, it's a lot better than your other work, would you like to tell me about it?" She gave me an encouraging grin, and I looked down onto the page I'd customised today. In the centre of the paper was a person, it was unclear which gender it was, you could only see it's face, not the hair or clothes, because they were wearing a hat made out of a elderly wolf head, giving it an Native American feel to it. Around it were dream catchers and wisps of smoke and tree pattern, shading and crossing in places. As it floated up the page, the wisps got darker, giving it a sinister edge to it that could be unnoticed in the care-free eye. In the corner was the quote 'The soul would have no rainbow if the eye had no tears'. And in the top corner was a poem I'd written myself.  
"Frank?" Miss Carlie snap me out of it. "Tell me about the quote." She said steadily, putting herself in an approachable position, as if trying to get me to talk. "My Grandfather's friend is Native American, my Grandfather told me some stories and poems that his friend had passed down to him. I guess that one just stuck." I said. Moving my head back after I'd finished the conversion, as if I was reeling it back out of the intensity of Miss Carlie's thoughts. "And the poem?" I blushed. I wasn't going to share that one. Sensing my lack of speech, she smiled. "It's okay, you don't have to tell me." She removed her glasses and sat on the side of the table. "I know it's unprofessional of me, but I worry about you sometimes Frank. You're a refreshingly original being, but you seem so lost sometimes. Don't worry, you'll understand everything, it just takes time." I breathed out, taken aback by what she was saying. "Really?" She nodded encouragingly. "Yeah. If you ever want to talk to me about anything, just stay behind again. Although, you seemed to look at a certain new student called Mr. Gerard Way today.." A sly grin ran up the corners of her mouth. "It's not like that.. Me and Gerard are just-" she winked at me and ushered me out the door, handing me a late slip and closing the door. Unsure about the rules of teaching, I plodded slowly along the school site, clasping the piece of pink paper I had acquired. I uncrumpled it and read the slip. 'Please excuse Frank being late, he did a very impressive piece of artwork that I wished to discuss with him.'  
Miss Carlie was officially my new favourite teacher.  
. . . . .  
"Franklin Iero! Why are you late?"  
I decided it wouldn't be a good idea to correct him that it was simply 'Frank' right now, he didn't seem to be in a very forgiving mood. "I was with Miss Carlie, this explains it." I said, handing the slip over. He scanned down the page, gave a timid smile and told me to go and sit down. Looking around the room I spotted Gerard, sat at the back, looking at me from across the room. He had no one next to him, so I went and sat down there. "How come 'Miss Scene Queen' hasn't snapped up this seat yet?" I whispered, sniggering. "I kinda told her to go away, in the nicest way possible of course." I laughed and got out my pen and Geography book.


	5. This lack of self control I fear is never ending.

The rest of the school day blurred by rather quickly, pretty much the same way as it had started. Gerard and I boarded the bus and sat down where we had before, then retreated forward as we realised the jocks would be sat there again.  
We saw Josh and his gang get on the bus and begin to stroll down the aisle. As Josh walked past me, he whacked me round the head with his school bag and shouted "Faggot!" Then laughed obnoxiously loudly, if I had a violent bone in my body I swear I would have punched him. Instead I just had a spontaneous temper and a messed up head. "You okay?" Gerard asked, giving me a sympathetic smile, not quite showing his teeth. "Yeah, I'm cool." I said, straightening up in my seat. "They shouldn't do that, y'know. Why don't you tell someone?" I resisted the urge to laugh in his face. "Because they don't do anything." I replied calmly.  
I was just about to get off the bus when a voice called out and stopped me.  
"Frank!" I spun my head around to become face to face with Gerard.  
"What's up?" He smiled at me.  
"Do you wanna come round?" I nodded timidly, wanting to go but feeling a little worried as I'd only known him for a day and didn't really wanna meet his parents, I was so awkward it was embarrassing.  
"Sure!" I agreed, Following him down the path.  
"Where do you live?" I asked him, curiosity taking over.  
"Just down here." He said, gesturing to the path near the woods. "Not too far from me then." I smiled, "I live up there." I pointed to the other side of the woods.  
The woods were pretty cool, and they led to my favourite place; the park.  
"Awesome."  
Gerard's house was weird to say in the least. It was really dark, the windows were draped with curtains and the whole place reeked of smoke and the dinner than Gerard's mom was preparing, which weirdly created a rather nice and homely aroma.  
"Are you sure it's okay for me to come round?" I asked, biting my lip. "Sure, my mom will be thrilled I'm actually socialising!" I laughed, that was a relatable statement. "Okay." I said, still not completely reassured.  
"Hi, Gerard!" She paused, walking around the corner. "Oh, who's this?"  
Mrs Way smiled, all exaggerated hand movements and big smiles. "This is Frank!" Gerard told her, a shy smile as she rushed forward to give me a hug, a weird gesture I wasn't very used to, but I tried to act like it was a completely normal thing for someone you've met for a short while's mom to do, which it wasn't, if I'm honest.  
"Will you be staying for dinner? I'm making tomato soup."  
"Oh, I don't know.." I looked at her, a little bewildered by her enthusiasm, unusual for a person her age, the majority of people in their 50's weren't exactly pleased by everything, she seemed to embrace everything. Plus, she looked pretty young, but she must be quite old to have Gerard at the age he is now, so it had to be believed. She looked a lot like him in some senses; the glowing hazel green eyes, the petite nose and the slight dip in the chin, although personally, Gerard wore it better.  
"I'll make you some up, growing boys need food!" She laughed and skipped off to the kitchen, I blinked.  
"Shall we go to my bedroom?" Gerard asked, I blinked at him again.  
"Frank?" He asked, I snapped out of my thoughts and followed him down the corridor, I could have sworn he winked.  
We headed down a flight of stairs and before I knew it we were at the bottom of a pitch black staircase. Now I was slightly scared, I was in a dark basement with a gay man I barely knew, who may have possibly winked at me.  
"Gerard?-"  
"Frank." He interrupted me, grinning. He flicked on the lights.  
The basement was not so much a basement, but actually Gerard's bedroom. It was dark and dingy but strangely familiar and comforting.  
"Wow, man. Awesome room!" I said, looking around the various pieces of bric-a-brak and artwork.  
"Did you do that?" I asked, my eyes lingering over a painting of a vampire, blood pouring from his mouth, but his eyes were soft, gentle, and his appearance was clean and friendly looking, despite the fangs and blood. It was confusing yet captivating.  
"Yep! And pretty much every other drawing in this room!" He laughed. "I dig drawing."  
"Never would have guessed." I teased. Looking up at him. He chuckled.  
"Should I put some music on?" He asked, walking over to his CD player. "Sure! What do you have?"  
"Hmm...Radiohead?" I nodded. "Cool"  
It was a little bit awkward for a while after that, I sat on his bed twiddling my thumbs and he came and sat down next to me. "Hey, you wanna play truth or dare?" He whispered eagerly. "Okay!" I agreed enthusiastically.  
"Oh, by the way, my cousin Dan is coming round in a while though, you'll like him, he's cool." Gerard informed me, I'd have to take Gerard's word for it, but I'm always a bit worried about meeting new people. "Frank, truth or dare?" He asked, leaning in closer to hear my reply. We now sat cross-legged on the bed facing each-other.  
"Truth." I watched his face flicker with thought. "How many CD's do you have?"  
I counted in my head. "Seven, my turn!"  
Gerard gulped and I laughed at his hesitant face. "How many relationships have you had?" I asked him.  
He cleared his throat. "Well, officially....none." This news shocked me, I thought everyone else would have had one at this age. "Unofficially?" I asked him. "Well, there was this one guy, his name was Caspian."  
Caspian was an enchanting name, of course Gerard was in love with someone called Caspian. It was so....Gerard.  
"What happened?"  
"I'll tell you the story of Caspian another time."  
"Aw, please?"  
"Nope, it's my go now!"  
I twisted my legs into a more comfortable position and looked at him.  
"Do your worst. Truth."  
He smirked. "Are you sure that you're straight?"


	6. Questions and answers.

"Are you sure that you're straight?"  
The words echoed in my mind. How was that a fair question? I looked up at him, his smirk was still visible but his eyes were understanding. I told him what my brain had been telling me. "I'm not sure of anything."  
"And why's that?" Gerard asked me. Man, he liked asking questions.  
"Well, are you sure of everything?"  
He pondered this thought. "No, but I am sure of the things I need to be sure of."  
He had a point, I guess his brain was just more organised than mine.  
"Anyway! It's my turn to ask you a question now." I exclaimed, changing the mood of the conversation. He raised an eyebrow as if to say 'go on.' "Truth." He stated.  
"Anyone caught your eye since you've been here?"  
He smiled, "Yes."  
"Who?" I asked him, excited for gossip. "You already asked one question, you're not allowed anymore!" He grinned, standing up.  
"Come on, let's play video games!"  
I didn't object, video games were good.

 

The door opened and a thunder of feet came down the stairs. It sounded like a riot squad. "Geerrraarrd!" Shouted a boy, he was lanky and overly tall. A clear, English accent apparent, with brown floppy hair and big brown eyes.  
"Oh, who's this?" He joked, grinning at me and Gerard, a twinkle in his eye.  
"This is my friend, Frank."  
"Sure it is." He flopped himself down on the brown leather couch, lounging himself over two whole seats of it, grabbing the packet of potato chips he'd obviously 'borrowed' from the kitchen upstairs.  
"I'm level two hundred on this!" He grabbed the controller off Gerard.  
"Wow." Gerard said. "You've been here two minutes, I've said practically nothing and you've already eaten my food, stolen the sofa, and beat my high score? No fair man." Gerard laughed, a piece of hair falling into his face as he spoke, he brushed it back behind his ears.  
"That's how I roll!" The boy laughed.  
"This is Dan by the way, Frank. My cousin, he's 14."  
"14 and a half!" Dan corrected, I giggled.  
"Hi, Dan. Nice to meet you."  
Dan smiled, "Hey Gerard, this ones got some manners, he's a keeper!"  
Gerard punched his arm jokingly.  
"Nah, I'm kidding. Nice to meet you too." He said, before proceeding to steal yet another potato chip.  
"Dinners gonna be ready soon, wanna go upstairs, Frank?"  
"Sure." I nodded, grabbing my bag off of the floor.

 

We sat around the table, with me shyly making chitchat, Gerard blushing like fuck, Dan coming out with cheesy innuendos, and Gerard's mom, completely oblivious to it all.  
"So when did you move from Jersey, Frank?" His mom said, smiling at me.  
"Well, I was halfway into the second year, so... Just over three years."  
"Do you like it here?" She asked, still having a smile present across her cheeks.  
"It's okay, the school is better than my school in Jersey."  
"Why's that?"  
"The people aren't as bad here, I guess. And my room is bigger here."  
Gerard's mom nodded and grinned. "Yeah. I'm glad Gerard's found a friend, he was such a loner in Jersey."  
"Mom!" Gerard exclaimed, blushing and shooting her an embarrassed glare.  
"Well you were!" He still looked just as embarrassed.  
"If it makes you feel any better, I was too." I smiled timidly across the table at him.  
I'm pretty sure Dan make a puking noise, but I could be wrong.  
I tore off some bread and dipped it into the soup, pretending that this was highly interesting and required my deep concentration, when in fact, I was just trying to avoid eye contact.  
After we finished eating, Gerard's mom tried to give me some desert, but I told her that I really had to go, I hadn't told my parents where I was going and I didn't really want to explain where I was, just incase my dad sussed out who I'd met.  
Walking home I had noticed some strange looking women, one was in a bright pink tracksuit and jogging like a chicken, and the other was wearing a summer dress. In winter.  
They were talking about the price of pizza.  
England is a weird place.

 

I opened the front door quietly, hoping that my parents weren't back, but they were.  
"Hey Frank. Where were you?" My dad asked.  
"I was just..at a friends" he didn't sense my hesitation, yet he still asked which friend.  
"He's called Gerard." I really hoped that if my Dad's workmate had been Gerard's dad, that he hadn't said his name. "I haven't heard you mention him before, is he new?"  
"No, he's been here a while, we didn't speak much before though."  
He nodded before returning to read his paper, I gladly received the lack of attention to myself and heading upstairs.  
I switched on the computer and logged in, starting up Facebook. My Internet friends were all asleep. Ugh.  
I put on my iPod and drifted off to sleep, it was getting dark outside so it made me seem tired earlier, I guess.


	7. Interdit.

Scream after scream I was woken up.  
"Ugh!" I exclaimed, ripping out my headphones. Well done Frank, of course it was a good idea to put your iPod on at night. I rubbed my eyes and became well aware of a glaring light, beaming into my eyes. As they opened, I looked around me. I was at my desk. I was fully clothed. And I'd overslept. "Shit!" I reached forward and grabbed my pile of clothes that had just been washed.  
Three band t-shirts, one pair of ripped jeans, four socks, a skeleton hoodie, five pairs of boxers, and a beanie hat.

I picked up the appropriate amounts of clothing before rushing to the bathroom. I didn't really have enough time to wash, so I just stuck my head in the sink and shook my hair dry. It kinda sucked, I hate not showering. I only feel human again after a shower.  
Even so, I really had to go. The school bus would be arriving in ten minutes, which was barely enough time to do anything.

 

Teeth, food, shoes, bag, leave. Gerard was waiting for me at the bus stop. "Hey! What took you so long?" He laughed, just as the bus pulled in. "Overslept, ugh." "Awh, I hate it when that happens." He nodded. "Mhm." I said, smiling at the bus driver as I walked up the bus steps. I always felt the need to want to thank them as I got on, which was weird since technically they hadn't done anything yet. I always said it when I got off though.

The bus journey was pretty quiet, Josh didn't say anything today, which was good- yet surprising. Gerard and I discussed Black Flag. Before we knew it, we were there.  
"I need to go to the library to pre-order the comic book I was telling you about. You wanna come?" He asked. "Nah, sorry, I'm gonna go to the form room. You're such a nerd." I punched his arm jokingly, he grinned at me. "I know, see ya' at registration!" The form room was a new concept to me, in Jersey we just went to each class and memorized your schedule. Yet here, you go to a form called 'The form room' to a thing called registration, where they check you into a register, and they do that in all lessons to check you were there. You can also come to the form room to eat at break and lunch too, or to the canteen. It's weird.

We walked off our separate ways and I saw Holly; the girl I sit next to in Art, walking the same way as me. "Hey!" I called, she turned round. "Oh, hi Frank!" She did a strange skipping movement towards me; making me laugh. "What's up?" She asked, opening the door for me. "Ugh, nothing, I'm so tired." She smiled. "I know right, me too! Have you got Art first today?" I nodded.  
"Great! I'll see you there!" She shot me a grin before bounding off to her class. She was so full of energy I couldn't believe I hadn't noticed her before. It was strange that she was so shy normally, yet once somebody starts a conversation, she just jumps out of her shell. Opens up like a flower. I couldn't decide if it was an annoying kind of excitable, or a happy one, but I still wanted to know more about her. I'd have to wait until Art though, as she's not in my form.

I took my seat quickly, ignoring the girls gossiping next to me, most likely about me.  
I got out my planner and flipped to the notes, these were blank pages in my planner which were probably for some reason other than doodling, but I used it for doodling anyway.  
I was just in the middle of drawing an epic Sex Pistols logo, when the bell rang loudly, causing me to jump a little.  
The tutor rushed into the room, in a brisk, confident manner. Her hair in place and her face composed. Her name was Mrs Elliot, she's my form tutor, which means she checks us all into school every morning. We're supposed to talk to her if we have any problems, but no one would approach her with a barge pole. She's fierce.

Gerard came into the room two minutes later, clutching a bright comic book, his hair flying in the wind, making me chuckle.  
"Gerard Way, you are late! Care to explain?"  
He looked a little panicked. "I was in the library.."  
A gaggle of girls sniggered at him, he shot them a look.  
"Fair enough. But there's no second chances. Sit."  
He pulled a face to me, behind Mrs Elliot's back, I grinned at him.  
"You got off lightly." I chucked.  
"I know right. Cool drawing." He smiled at my planner.  
"Thanks."  
"So..I saw you talking to Holly this morning..."  
"And?" I asked, feeling slightly defensive.  
"You like her, don't you?" Gerard states, grinning.  
"What? I never said that." I told him, but he wasn't listening.  
"Whatever, it's obvious." Gerard laughed, putting his comic inside his book.  
Ignoring his comment, I did the same with my planner.

Before I knew it, it was time for art class.  
"Hello, class! Today were going to start work on our 'Little Secret' project. It should be a lot of fun. I have decided that we will not work in pairs after all, as I want to give you as much creative space as possible. Perhaps mind-map what you're going to draw, then get to work. You can use any material you'd like." Mrs Carlie explained.  
I decided against doing a mind map, too obvious. Everyone else seemed to have the same idea.  
Holly took out her pencil and began sketching something across the page, it looked like the back of someone's head so far, but I couldn't be sure.  
I glanced across the room, Gerard was busy frantically drawing with a thick black sharpie onto some red paper. He looked so engrossed, his brow furrowed in deep concentration.  
I got out my art supplies and spread them out on the table; Black paint, white paint, white chalk, black card, paint brush, pencil and pen.  
"Let's do this thing." I stated, Holly giggled.  
I sketched some rough outlines onto the paper with a white chalk, smudging it a little with my finger.  
I began to form the shape of a bone, and another one. I repeated this many more times until I had an entire skeleton hand. "That's great!" A voice interrupted me from my thoughts. It pissed me off a little. I was engrossed. "Holly?.. Oh, thanks." I looked up, meeting her eyes. She leant on the table next to me. "Do you wanna go for a coffee with me after school?" She asked, smiling at me, an expression on her face I didn't recognise. "Yeah...sure!" I said in a fluster. Coffee was always good.  
“Great!” She smiled, as if she'd accomplished something. “Meet you in Starbucks at 4.” she stated, and then skipped off, I fucking swear she did a little flirtatious wave. Ew. When did she get so confident?

“Ooh, someone's got a date!” Piped up Gerard, who had appeared behind me. “Shut up, Gerard.” I grumbled.  
“Oi, no need for that attitude man.” He laughed, looking over my work, which I had just added a little more to. “This is good. What does it mean?” I tapped my nose, as if to say 'Not telling you that easy, punk..'  
“It's a hand...” He said, a hint of questioning to his voice.  
“Two hands.” I replied.  
“Reaching out to each other?” he asked, smiling. I blushed and looked away coyly.  
“Oooh!” He giggled. “Why a skeleton?”  
“Secrecy.” I said simply.  
“What?” he asked. “Secrecy, how?”  
“Can you see who it is? No. It's a human, that's all you know.” I told him, watching his facial expressions change as I spoke.  
“That's a valid point.”  
“Yep.” I shifted on my chair awkwardly, glancing down at it. I began to write out a word.  
“Inter...dit?” Gerard asked, reading it out as I wrote it.  
“Yes.” I replied.  
“What does that mean?” He asked. He asks too many questions.  
“It's in French.”  
Before I knew it, he had left my side, wandered to his chair, picked up a French dictionary, and began to search the 'I' section.  
“No, that's cheating!” I proclaimed.  
“Forbidden.” Gerard said. “It means forbidden.” He looked me right in the eyes.

“Yes.”

Picture: https://scontent-a-lhr.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-prn1/994674_402246236572325_792845631_n.jpg


	8. Echoes of mist and mind.

I clutched the coffee mug in the palm of my hands, warming my face in the steam rising upwards from the delicious substance.  
I looked up and around the room, the coffee seemed to be the only warm thing in it. People bustled in and around, queuing up and impatiently tapping their fingertips onto the tabletops, waiting for phone calls or texts varying from important to unimportant, and all of this was happening in one room.

“Frank?” I had become oblivious to the reason I was even here it seemed.  
“Yeah?” I asked Holly. Her eyes widened, probably surprised I'd actually regained consciousness so quickly from my waking slumber. After she had grabbed my attention, she looked a little pale for a second, before blurting out four words that I was very surprised to hear.  
“Do you like me?” She asked, my mind nearly had a seizure because of the massive change in situations in my head. I decided to bluff this one out, I was all innocent apparently.  
“Of course I like you!” I said, in the friendliest tone I could muster. Her face lit up in a smile, she curled her fingers around her sleeve cuff and rested her elbows on the table, leaning closer. “No, but do you really like me?”  
Fuck, this was going too fast. “Urm... yeah...” I said, so quickly that I accidentally lied, hoping to escape. It was like my brain had gone onto emergency autopilot, that was what I was supposed to say. She grinned, leant forward and kissed me on the lips. She actually kissed me. On the lips.  
I was too flabbergasted to say anything, this had turned from a friendly coffee to what seemed like some kind of cheesy movie. And I didn't want to be in it. The oldest trick in the book had to do, cliché or not. I pretended to look at my watch. Like that ever works.  
“Shit, I just remembered an essay I have to do, I'm so sorry. I'll see you tomorrow, yeah?”  
“I can't wait!” She nodded, smiling at me.  
“Me neither.” I said back.  
I kept fucking lying. I could wait. This is a nightmare.  
My brain was in some kinda purgatory as I walked home, I don't love this girl, I can't love this girl, and she thinks that she loves me. I feel like a complete asshole. I always vowed to treat girls nicely, that's how I was brought up. Don't play with their emotions, be nice, be kind and be loyal.  
To actually love them? That was meant to be an obvious yes, and I don’t love Holly.  
Sure, I should love her, she's bubbly, smart, pretty, an all round good person, but I don't, and I can't change my mind on that, especially since right now she feels like an obstacle.  
I mean, technically we aren’t dating, right? Or are we? I actually don't have a clue, and I hate that. At least she didn't ask me out. But she kissed me, doesn't that mean more? I always thought it did, and since this was my 'first kiss' it ought to count for something. And quite frankly, I felt pretty angry that it had been taken already.  
I want to talk to Gerard. I can't talk to him because I don't have his number, but I want to.  
I also want to be alone. I can do that.  
The woods. I will go to the woods.

The bark felt rougher today without my skeleton gloves that I always take when I plan to go to the woods for a long period of time, since I didn't know I was going to be upset, I didn’t bring them.  
I tried to climb the tree, failing a few times. I finally managed to pull myself up, scraping a little patch on my stomach Trying not to wince with the pain; I was finally up. I climbed a little higher, which was nowhere near as difficult since I was already in the tree. I found my comfy spot; a branch curved a little bit like a chair. I'd been sitting here since I was about ten. Some things never change. It's always good to come back here, the woods are constant, they never change unless someone changes them. I'd never do such a thing, I love it here too much, so here it still stands.

I got out my iPod and picked a track, it reminded me of shitty memories, I turned it off.  
Instead, I took out my headphones, leant against the tree, and looked around. I was just below bird height, I could watch them all at a close, but safe distance, and it's grear doing so. I took in the atmosphere; it was misty. The kind of mist you can rest on the tip of your tongue. Cold, but almost like a menthol tasting cold, soothing and refreshing. I closed my eyes, breathing in through my nose. I was alive. I never knew air could taste this good.

I sat there for at least half an hour, before noticing a shape moving swiftly in the corner of my eye, when I saw what it was, I nearly fell off the branch.  
“What the fuck?!” I exclaimed, grabbing onto the sides of the tree. He turned round.  
“Oh my god!” He shouted, almost falling himself. “Hi?”  
“Gerard? Why are you in a tree!?” I exclaimed, completely baffled as to how he got here, and why he was here. “I could ask you the same question!” He replied, steadying himself and sitting on a firm branch.  
“I come here when I'm sad.” I told him, he gave me a sympathetic look. “Are you okay?” I nodded. “Yes, I'm fine now. Now explain what he hell you're doing in a tree.” I grinned, he let out a giggle. “I like trees, and I live right there.” I looked to where he was pointing. In the near distance, you could faintly see a house through the fog, I had known it was there, but hadn't twigged it was the house that Gerard lived in. “Oh.” I said, now clearly being able to see a way you could climb out the window and right into a tree, which was just two trees away from the one we were sat in now.

“Why were you sad?” He asked, moving slowly over to where I was at, gripping onto a branch for balance, before sitting himself down on one that was awkwardly close to mine.  
“Because of Holly.” His brows furrowed.  
“What did Holly do?” I looked at him, he looked genuinely concerned.  
“She kissed me.” He looked quite taken aback.  
“Isn't that what you wanted?” He asked, I swear he moved a little bit closer, maybe in some attempt to comfort me.  
“No. She doesn't interest me. She's nice enough, but I don't love her. I think she thinks that I do love her, and I can't do that to someone, Gerard. It's cruel.”  
He shook his head. “You can't force yourself to love, you can't control love. It just happens, wrong or right, unrequited or mutual. I should know.”  
I looked up at him. “How should you know?” He was so cryptic, the conversation was one of those meaningful ones. You crave the answers before they come, and you lap up every word. “Because it's happening to me.”  
And with that, he patted me on the shoulder, and climbed down to the ground, without even a wave.


End file.
